


a rose as comely as you

by ZodiacRiver



Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, First Meetings, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-10-03 16:02:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17287145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZodiacRiver/pseuds/ZodiacRiver
Summary: Yue-Lung owns a flower shop. From his small, self-owned kiosk, he watches a certain cute delivery boy.





	a rose as comely as you

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Yet another yuesing fic from yours truly!!
> 
> This is based on [eijisuwu](https://twitter.com/eijisuwu)'s art, which I fell in love immediately, and [softaslans](https://twitter.com/softaslans)'s brilliant concept.

Yue-Lung owns a flower shop in the outskirts of New York. It’s a small, self-owned kiosk that he bought with his own money. He doesn’t sell thrice a dozen of every species, but the loveliest ones are almost always available in his shop; from perennial to seasonal ones, from roses to carnations.

 

Although he doesn’t make much from selling flowers, it’s enough to keep himself alive. His skills in arranging are incomparable. He receives a lot of bouquet commissions, either for weddings, birthday parties or graduation ceremonies. He juxtaposes flowers in perfect harmony, like the talented florist he is, careful to create the most beautiful meaning through the language of flowers.

 

Yue-Lung enjoys his job. It’s an opportunity to meet new people, and to observe _him_ from afar.

 

There is a particular boy that he likes. He doesn’t even know his name. Yue-Lung only knows that he’s a delivery boy, often delivering goods to a flat near his shop. His appearance is always random; sometimes twice a day, sometimes never at all in a whole week. Still, Yue-Lung watches him.

 

He’s probably a university student, maybe one or two years younger than Yue-Lung. He always wears a cap, but Yue-Lung once saw him without his hat—his hair is short, a little messy, but Yue-Lung thinks it’s really fluffy. He can already feel its softness even without touching it.

 

The thought makes him blush. He even considers making a personalized bouquet for him, but that would only make him look like a creep. Yue-Lung doesn’t really expect any interaction with this boy, but fate is kind enough to let him be wrong about that.

 

It’s about nine, and Yue-Lung’s shop is about to close anytime now. He leans back to his seat and yawns. Thinking there shouldn’t be any more customers at such time, he begins to clean up and prepare to go home.

 

Yue-Lung is wiping the table when someone approaches his kiosk. He doesn’t pay attention at first, continuing his task at hand without looking up. He only does when he hears the footsteps louder.

 

It’s none other than his secret crush. Even his employee’s instincts seem to break down then and there; he doesn’t smile and announce his usual ‘Welcome! What can I get you?’. Partly because he’s tired, but mostly because he’s surprised.

 

“Excuse me,” he says. “Are you still open?”

 

“Oh, I’m about to close. But, yes, I’m still open,” Yue-Lung answers, maintaining his composure and trying his very best to regulate his drumming heart.

 

“I—can you please help me? I’m supposed to be delivering flowers to a client, but I got into a road accident and they’re ruined,” he explains quickly. “Just arrange something pretty. I’ll need it by tomorrow, at twelve.”

 

“Accident? Are you okay?” Yue-Lung asks, concerned.

  
“Yes, I’m okay, but—“

 

Yue-Lung peeks from behind the counter to check why the delivery boy is standing so awkwardly. He’s standing with one leg on a tiptoe, and, glancing at his face, he seems to be in pain.

 

“You’ve sprained something, haven’t you?”

 

“It doesn’t matter! Please, I’ll pay you now if you want.”

 

Yue-Lung smiles. “Okay. I’ll arrange something pretty for you. But you need to come in now and let me mend your wound. You’ll get into more accident if you ride a bike like that.”

 

He hesitates, but agrees. Yue-Lung didn’t see that he was walking with a limp before, but now that he does, he realizes that he’s limping quite badly. He walks very slowly to behind the counter, all the time cringing.

 

“Sit down,” Yue-Lung gestures to his chair. “What’s your name?”

 

“Uh, Sing.”

 

Yue-Lung nods, quite proud of himself to have gained a valuable information: his name. He takes a look at Sing’s ankle. “You’ll be okay.”

 

“Glad to hear so.”

 

Yue-Lung racks a drawer and takes out an ointment. When he opens the cap, Sing groans, “that smells so bad.”

 

“It’s traditional medicine.”

 

He applies a good amount on Sing’s skin, before massaging it as gentle as possible, but Sing still shouts on the first stroke.

 

“It’s more painful than getting sprained itself,” Sing complains.

 

“I know. But it’ll heal you.”

 

After a few massages and Sing doesn’t cringe as much as before, Yue-Lung looks up to him and gives him a nod. “Feeling better?”

 

“Yeah. Thank you.”

 

Sing stands up, stumbles, but manages to regain his balance. “Thank you so much. And about the bouquet…how much is it?”

 

“Fifty-five dollars.”  
  
Sing’s jaw dropped. “Oh God. I don’t have that kind of money.”

 

Yue-Lung crosses his arms, watching as Sing bites his lip in desperation. Sing says, “do you take daily installments?”

 

“No, but we can make a deal.”

 

Yue-Lung almost can’t believe the words he had just said. He’s got an idea in mind, but he’s not sure if it will work. For a broke delivery guy like Sing, it will probably work, but Yue-Lung wonders if he’s taking it too far and too early. They’ve just met. Though, Sing nods enthusiastically and speaks, “please, whatever it is. This is a very important client. I don’t want to lose my only job.”

 

“You…,” Yue-Lung begins. He looks away nervously. “Work for me.”

 

“Okay! When do I start?”

 

He definitely doesn’t expect Sing to immediately accept the offer. He expects him to at least negotiate. But he doesn’t.

 

“Um, tomorrow?”

 

“Sure,” Sing grins from ear to ear. “Ah, you haven’t told me your name.”

 

“It’s Yue-Lung.”

 

“That’s pretty.”

 

Yue-Lung is taken aback. He’s blushing, redder than he wants to admit. There’s no use looking away, because Sing already sees his dazed face. _Pretty?_ Out of all people, and it’s his crush, who he has just met, who says so.

 

“Sorry, that’s kind of a creepy thing to say, isn’t it?” Sing apologizes.

 

“No—it’s—thanks.”

 

Sing smiles and straightens his cap. “I’ll come here tomorrow at twelve to pick up the bouquet, then I’ll come again to work for you at, uh, is four okay?”

 

“Yeah. That’s okay.”

 

“All right. See you, then,” Sing walks away, but Yue-Lung stops him by the hand.

  
  
“Wait,” he says. “Wait.”

 

“You need something else?”

 

Yue-Lung gulps. He plucks a rose from one of the vases and wordlessly gives it to Sing.

 

“Woah. For me?”

 

Yue-Lung nods, still sotto voce. Even Sing doesn’t know what to do.

 

“Ah,” he accepts it. “Thank you for the rose. Good night.”

 

Yue-Lung watches as Sing leaves. He rides his motorcycle, speeding up until his figure becomes smaller, a speck, and nothing at all.

 

He stands unmoving, still looking into what is now vacancy.

 

_What did I just do?_

**Author's Note:**

> please tell me what you think!!
> 
> Yell at my face on Twitter: [icryoverships](https://twitter.com/Icryoverships)


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